


Fireworks, Fire Works, Works of Fire

by AnotherWorld3111



Series: Wincest Drabbles [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amputee Dean Winchester, Angst, Businessman Sam Wesson, Domestic Fluff, Domesticity, Fireworks, Fluff, Fourth of July, Lots of Secrets, M/M, Military Veteran Dean Winchester, PTSD, Prosthetic leg implied, Secret Agent Sam Winchester, Secrets, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Unrelated Winchesters (Supernatural), War Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22413877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Continuation to Coffee Shop Go BOOM! (if y'all remember that)It's the 4th of July and not really having any actual plans of his own, Dean keeps the tradition of dropping Mary off with her friends, but instead of retreating home himself, he leaves for Sam's for their date.Except Sam's got an open window, which kinda ruins the whole 'soundproof walls' thing, and they don't realize it until Dean reacts... more extremely than Sam would've expected.He'll take it in stride, but an explanation -- at least from Dean's side -- is due.
Relationships: Sam Wesson/Dean Winchester
Series: Wincest Drabbles [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1008993
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Fireworks, Fire Works, Works of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> When did I post coffee shop go boom? two years ago? Yeah, i started this pretty soon after posting that... and i just finished this. aaaand of course, the way this one will end implies possible continuations, as if I don't have enough wip series to work on already. ugh  
> anyway

‘ _ What are you doing tomorrow night? _ ’

Dean stared at his phone, holding it away before it could get splattered with pancake batter. One hand struggled to type out a reply as the other finished tying off Mary’s apron behind her back, protecting most of her clothes from her most recent cooking endeavor. 

‘ _ Most likely spending a quiet night in. Mary’s friends invited her for a playdate at the park to see the fireworks. Will be dropping her off with them. _ ’

“Daddy, can I put in raspberries?” The sound of his daughter’s voice pulled Dean away from his phone, and he put it in his pocket to give Mary his full attention.

“’Course, sweetie. You can put anything you want.” She beamed, a drop of pancake batter smeared on her cheek. Smiling, he went to get her the raspberries, but he soon regretted the words that had already left his mouth when he barely got the refrigerator door open. 

“Can you get me limes as well then?” Closing his eyes, Dean exhaled, mentally cursing a certain coffee shop owner. Ever since he’d made all nice with Mary, there was barely a meal that didn’t threaten to land Dean in the emergency center for a severe case of food poisoning.

Amazing, his daughter certainly was. A good cook? 

Probably not yet.

A good two hours later, when his stomach dared to let Dean emerge from the bathroom longer than a few minutes - Dean had attempted to finish the stack of pancakes that Mary created, trying to prevent the waterworks that threatened to appear when Dean suggested to get rid of that particular stack - he flopped on his back on his bed, the bedroom door open and letting him hear Mary play with her dolls from the living room. Pulling out his phone, he quickly unlocked it when he noticed he had a message from Sam, a reply from their conversation prior to breakfast.

‘ _ You’re not going?’ _

And when a significant amount of time had passed without Dean replying, another message had come through as well. Sliding the screen, he noticed it was from when they were still eating breakfast.

‘ _ Nevermind. I apologize if that was too forward of me.’ _

Clicking his tongue, Dean shuffled around to get comfortable on his bed, already typing out a text.

‘ _ Not at all. Was just having breakfast with Mary.’ _

He paused, hesitating as he wondered how best to reply to Sam’s question, thumbs awkwardly dancing before settling back down on the screen again.

‘ _ I guess you could say I’m not a fan of all that noise.’ _

No sooner had he sent that last message did it show up as read, and immediately, the dancing bubbles signifying Sam typing popped up.

‘ _ Understandable.’ _

_ ‘Well, if it’s okay, what do you say coming over here, then? We could nurse a beer or two together in silence. ;) ‘  _

Dean huffed with amusement, slightly rolling his eyes. Of course, Sam would be the type of dork to text with the emoticons. But he couldn’t find it in himself to mind, whatsoever.

‘ _ What time?’ _

_ ‘What time do you have to drop Mary off with her friends?’  _

_ ‘Oh, she’ll be with them the whole day. So pretty early in the day.’ _

_ ‘Seven okay?’ _

_ ‘Sounds like a plan.’ _

_ ‘ :) ‘  _

Dean snorted.

oOo

He’d been preparing for Dean’s arrival since the previous day. But when his alarms went off, Sam felt as ready as when he first graduated with plans to become a lawyer.

Sam Wesson was not a lawyer.

Nonetheless, he pushed himself forward, and opened the door.

The sight that greeted his eyes took his breath away. 

Dean stood there, shuffling in place. He was wearing dark skinny jeans and a black jacket over a green henley, the color perfectly bringing out the green in his eyes. 

Sam swallowed. Two months later and he still lov-  _ found _ the sight of Dean Winchester drool-worthy.

Definitely. 

“I, uh,” Dean suddenly stuck out his hands, making Sam suddenly aware of the plastic bag in his hands, vaguely conforming to the shape of the box within. “Mary made these. We, uh, made a lot.” 

Taking the bag from Dean’s hands, Sam finally remembered to push the door open wider, allowing Dean space to enter. He did, following Sam as he led the way to his kitchen, curiously taking the box, revealed to be a container for food, from the bag. “What is it?”

“Pancakes.” Dean’s brief answer that came almost immediately had Sam glancing back in suspicion, but when Dean offered him a guileless smile, he turned his narrowed eyes back to the container, before shrugging and depositing it in the fridge.

“Anyway. I’ve got lasagna, if that’s cool?”

“Definitely.” Sam absently smiled at Dean’s response, grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge. Popping open the lids, he handed Dean his first before walking over to the trash can, hiding it from view as he pushed the takeout boxes in deeper before dropping the beer bottles’ lids over it. Letting the lid close, he walked back to Dean. He clinked his bottle against Dean’s before taking a sip. 

“I’ve got last week’s cowboys game on TV?”

Dean grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

oOo

They watched for an hour in companionable silence, before retreating to the kitchen for dinner. Cutting them up slices, Sam served them whilst Dean got them more beer. They sat across from each other, digging into their meals. As Dean took his first mouthful, Sam found himself hesitating, jaw going slack as Dean chewed. For a tense moment, Dean didn’t react, and then his eyes widened ever so slightly as he nodded, eagerly taking another bite.

Before he could help himself, a sigh escaped Sam, and his hand resumed its course towards his mouth.

“So how’s it going with Bobby?” 

Dean looked up from where he’d been absorbed in his lasagna. Mouth still full, he sighed, rolling his eyes. Sam waited for him to swallow before Dean responded.

“He’s still trying to put up a fight even as he all but shoves the will at me. Talk about mixed signals, man.” He shook his head again, reclining in his seat as he polished off the last few bites of his lasagna. Sam hummed. 

“Well, you can’t blame him. He’s still an old guy who’s trying to retire. ‘Sides, from what I’ve seen of him, even I can tell he wouldn’t go down without a fight.” 

Dean snorted at that. Sam smiled, a little triumphantly at the look of amusement flashing over Dean’s face then. Personally, despite the lingering sense of embarrassment that still washed over him, it was quickly fading away in the face of Dean’s smile, and really, how could anyone feel anything but dazzled warmth when the guy smiled?

They quickly finished their meal, settling into their roles easily as Sam washed the dishes, Dean standing beside him with a dishcloth in hand. Standing together and working like this… it was so domestic. Sam’s chest was filled with elated joy and warmth at the thought.

Grabbing beer bottles, they moved onto the couch, sitting close enough so that their knees brushed against each other’s as they sat with one leg under them on the sofa, facing each other more than the TV as the game played on in the background. 

“How’s Mary been doing lately?” 

Dean smiled, swirling his bottle a little as his eyes grew fond. “She’s been doing good. Missing you though. And Gabriel – a little too much?” Sam laughed aloud, his head throwing back with the action. 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh my god,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his face with his free hand. “You have no idea.” He refused to say anymore, but there was still a strange glint in his eyes. 

Regarding him curiously, Sam lifted his beer to take a sip from it at the Same time as Dean. But abrupt cheering erupting from the TV had their elbows flinching and bumping into them each other. Sam narrowly managed to avoid spilling his beer on his shirt, but Dean didn’t fare any better. 

“Aw, man.” He held the wet shirt away from his chest, staring at it disdainfully. But Sam’s mouth was too busy drying out, his eyes pinned to where Dean’s shirt was still clinging to the man’s perky nipples. “Mind if I abandon you for a bit?” 

Sam cleared his throat, trying to kick start his brain into working again. The upstairs one. The downstairs one, unfortunately, was working a little too well at the moment. “Yeah, no, not at all.” Words, what were words. “Go ahead and grab a shirt too, toss this one when you’re changed and I can get it in the laundry for you.” He guessed he must have said something right when Dean nodded, carefully setting the rest of his beer down on the coffee table, still holding his wet shirt away from his neck. It didn’t help Sam at all that it instead clung to Dean’s waist instead, emphasizing his shape. 

Sam averted his eyes. Great difficulty was involved.

He leaned back, giving Dean space to move over his legs and to the bathroom. With Dean disappearing from his line of sight, Sam took a moment to recollect himself, taking a large gulp of the beer before pressing the cool bottle to his forehead. 

Three months wasn’t too long of a time to remain celibate, but when dating a man like Dean Winchester was involved? 

The skin on his right palm was running thin, and he didn’t have to do as much cardio, not with the amount of cold showers that had also been involved. That’s all Sam could say on the matter.

Shaking his head, Sam stood up, resolutely ignoring the throbbing pulse in his gut as he finished off his own beer, discarding the bottle before making his way to his bedroom. The door was ajar, so Sam let himself on, walking over to the closed bathroom door. 

“Dean?” Sam knocked, tilting his head a little closer as he tried to strain his ears for any noise. Thick soundproof walls were usually a perk, but there were moments when he wondered if it was wise to have soundproofed the bathroom as well.

Such as now for example. He could barely make the sound of running water through the door, but apart from that, there was nothing. Not even the sound of shuffling around. 

The sound of fireworks bursting had Sam flinching, and even as he immediately recognized the noise, abruptly aware that he’d been hearing it for a while now in the background, his eyes still swept the room, wondering why the noise was a lot louder than it should be. He tilted his head at the open window, wondering when that happened, when a thud from inside the bathroom snapped Sam to attention. 

“Dean?” His back was ramrod straight, and unable to keep the concern out of his voice, Sam found himself practically glued to the door. “C’mon, man, you okay in there?”

Absolute silence. 

Sam gave himself three seconds before he was going to open the door. He managed to wait for two, before he was slipping his fingers through a crevice between the hinges at the wrong side of the door. Finding the button only he was ever privy to, Sam pushed it, and the latch released, letting the door open. The sight he was met with stole his breath, but Sam didn’t give himself more than a second before he was jumping into action. Literally. Leaping forward, he crouched to his knees, pulling his hands back at the last second before he could place them on Dean’s shoulders.

“Hey, Dean? You with me, man?”

There wasn’t a response from the form curled into a fetal position, hands clamped over ears, an almost imperceptible shiver wracking through Dean’s entire body. Classic signs of PTSD, war trauma, flashbacks, so many terms with their definitions, and yet, Sam’s mind was drawing a blank on  _ what he needed to do _ . Scrunching his eyes closed, Sam grit his teeth.

_ C’mon, think, Sam. Think! _

Eyes shooting open, Sam leaned forward, moving around until he was on his knees. He still didn’t touch Dean, but a hand was already wavering the air, waiting for the moment permission was given to make contact. Sam swallowed. “Dean, it’s me, Sam. We’re at my place, in Texas. I’m gonna put my hand on you, okay?”

He practically held his breath, waiting for a response, body swaying ever so slightly forward just to make sure he wouldn’t miss Dean’s response if given quietly. But before it could be given, another explosion of fireworks outside had Dean flinching so severely, he almost collided painfully with the bathroom wall. Sam gave up all pretenses of holding back then, and let himself collect Dean in his arms, holding him tight to his chest.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s only fireworks, Independence Day and all that, remember? Just some harmless fireworks, no one’s getting hurt, alright, Dean? C’mon, sweetheart, come back to me…” He was absently shifting again, moving his legs around until he was sitting more comfortably instead, cross-legged on the bathroom with Dean on his lap. He hadn’t let Dean go even a little when moving, and now that he was settled, he only held Dean closer, murmuring soft reassurances into Dean’s soft hair without faltering or breaking pace. And every time more fireworks went off, raising in crescendo as everyone started lighting them up at the same time, Sam cradled Dean’s head all the more closer to his chest, curling his body around Dean in an attempt to help prevent the noise from reaching Dean’s still covered ears.

It seemed like an eternity passed before the fireworks stopped exploding, and Sam knew the time must’ve been well past midnight. At least an hour or even two past, and it was only emphasized by his limbs having completely lost all feeling. But Dean’s body was finally starting to relax, by a margin, but noticeable despite Sam’s stiff limbs. Sam swallowed, throat parched from the continuous speaking, and waited to see if Dean would make any other movement.

A minute passed, and Sam realized – Dean was a dead weight slumped against him. He must’ve already lost consciousness at some point long before, and was now sleeping, steadfast.

Sam tilted his head back and lightly rolling out the cricks in his neck, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

When he got up, it was with Dean in his arms, held in a bridal carry. For all his body protesting the abrupt movements reminding his limbs were still in place and needed active blood flow, Sam was still careful when placing his precious load on his bed before moving away.

His first step was to close the window. He a disdainful look at the sky. He never had a problem with fireworks before, but now, the noise was definitely marked on his negative list. Returning to the living room, he moved around on autopilot. His brain was currently glitching, and while his mental system restarted, he mindlessly cleaned up the place, putting away their dishes and turning off the TV and the lights. Making sure his alarms were still on and all the other locks in place, he finally returned to the bedroom, pausing at the doorway to take in the sight of a slumbering Dean. Unbidden, his own body loosened its stiff muscles, and he was overtaken with the sudden urge to just climb into bed beside Dean, curl up around him and let the world fade away from his senses. But something was nagging at him, and stepping into the bedroom reminded him exactly what it was.

Getting down on his knees again beside the bed, he cautiously poked around. When he retrieved Dean’s cellphone, a sound of triumph escaped him in the form of an exhale. Even that small sound made Sam freeze, until he was sure Dean remained undisturbed. Relaxing, Sam slowly got up, and quietly left the room, before opening Dean’s cell. Surprisingly, the device only required a simple passcode, but he easily bypassed that when he noticed the notification from the lock screen.

_ ‘Hey, Dean. When shall I be expecting you to pick up Mary?’ _

Casting a glance over his shoulder, Sam bit his lip, thumbing at the screen as he leaned against the wall, keeping his back to his bedroom.

‘ _ Actually, I was hoping you’d be amenable to allowing Mary to stay the night?’  _ He hit send, and then grimaced even as he added,  _ ‘Something came up…’ _

The reply, thankfully, was instantaneous, if a bit unexpected. A quick glance at the top of the screen revealed that it was, in fact, closing in on 2 in the morning. Sam was already feeling confusion and suspicion creeping in when he read the message.

_ ‘Oh! Honestly, I’m surprised you replied XD totally fine, Dean. I was already planning on Mary staying the night when you didn’t respond.’ _

Sam exhaled with relief. He was still trying to figure out what to say next when another message came in, bringing his anxiously dancing thumbs above the screen to a pause. 

_ ‘Doesn’t mean you don’t owe me one, handmaiden!’ _

And then another message.

_ ‘And stay safe! Xxx’ _

Sam blushed. Deciding he’d trespassed upon Dean’s privacy far enough, he didn’t respond to the final text and turned off the phone instead. Bringing it with him back to his bedroom, he placed it on the dresser before coming to an uncertain halt in the middle of his room.

Curled up on his side on Sam’s bed, there wasn’t a more inviting sight than Dean sleeping soundly in front of him. His entire body longed for him to take those last few steps into what was undoubtedly the most comfortable place ever for him to lose conscious himself, but he refrained. Forcing his body to the side, he moved to the bathroom, changing swiftly and efficiently, his nightly routine performed with perfunctory. Exiting the bathroom, he let himself have one last, lingering look at Dean, before he returned to the living room, and started to prep the couch for him to sleep away whatever was left of the night.

oOo

He rose with the sun, not just because it was a habit. Granted, he allowed himself to sleep-in whenever he could, and today was supposed to be one of those days, if it weren’t for the fact that the rising sun’s rays decided to land right on Sam’s face. Grumbling, he pushed himself up, frowning in confusion. He usually drew the curtains before bed, except he wasn’t in bed. He was on his couch. Why the everloving fuck was he asleep on his couch?

Getting to his feet and stretching, the memories from the previous night slowly filtered in. Dean and him relaxed on the couch, Dean’s panic attack, Dean taking up his bed…

“Shit,” he mumbled softly. Pulling free from the blankets wrapped snugly around his waist, he whirled around, and froze when he came face to face with Dean, leaning against the wall with a mug of coffee in his hands.

“‘Morning,” Dean said wryly. Sam blinked. “Figured I’d wait for you to get up, didn’t wanna disturb you after you helped me out last night.” His words and tone remained cool and aloof, but it was his eyes that belied his impassiveness, revealing the uncertainty he otherwise hid well from affecting his overall demeanor.

Sam swallowed, stepping away from the mess of blankets now pooled on the ground. “It’s fine,” he said genuinely. “If you think I’m like, upset or-or scared off, I’m not,” he tried to reassure. “And, I’m not gonna press either. You can tell me if you want, whenever you want. I’m not gonna press.”

All traces of casualness instantly disappearing, Dean straightened up, pushing himself up away from the wall. He eyes Sam suspiciously as he drew closer, but held out the mug of coffee anyway. When Sam stared blankly at it, he rolled his eyes, but the small quirk of his lips let Sam know it was all in good nature. “I made it for you. As a thank you,” he said with a small tilt of his head.

“Dude, you didn’t have to--”

“I wanted to,” Dean smoothly interrupted. “But I’m drawing the line at making breakfast,” he joked, but Sam saw right through that as well.

He grinned, making his body loosen and and appear carefree. “I’ll handle the food if you get the dishes.”

Dean’s eyes twinkled at the response, and Sam knew at that moment that he made the correct decision. “Deal.”

oOo

The air between them was forcefully nonchalant at first. But the longer they danced around each other in perfect synchronization in Sam’s kitchen, the more it seemed to thaw out, so that by the time the dining table was stacked with heaps of pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs, they were laughing jovially, any signs of tension -- not completely disappeared, but pushed well out of their minds for the time being.

The mood sobered, though, right as they were finishing their meal.

“I was in the army.” Dean abruptly said, apropos of nothing.

Sam swallowed his mouthful of pancakes before carefully putting his silverware back on his plate.

“Got captured during my final tour. It was nasty, messed with my head,” Dean continued. He didn’t meet Sam’s eyes, focused on toying with his eggs. “They got most of me back, except for some parts of my sanity and my leg,” his tone sounded self-deprecating, but Sam stiffened as he wondered the complexity of Dean’s statement. “Got honorably discharged, among a bunch of other stuff. And I accepted it. After what happened… Mary was just a year old, and when she came into my life, I knew there was nothing I’d let coming in between us.” Finally, Dean put down his own fork, looking up to meet Sam’s eyes. “So, what I’m trying to say is… it’s not just my daughter and I that’s a package deal. I come with a load of baggage, and you deserve to know that liv-dating me… probably won’t be easy.” He blushed, but maintained eye contact, but Sam didn’t miss the slip of his words, and it was that, that warmed his heart, even as he already knew what he was going to say without needing to make a conscious decision.

“Thank you for telling me.” He said, making sure Dean could see how earnest he was. “I appreciate it. But what I said before -- still stands. I don’t scare that easy, and I really do wanna see how things work out between us. And Mary,” he added, giving a small smile to let some of the seriousness melt away from his face with a tilt of his head.

For a second, Dean looked dumbfounded, as if he really couldn’t believe Sam was real. And, oh, they were definitely going to address that later, Sam knew. But for now, with how Dean’s face was slowly starting to melt into a blinding grin, Sam allowed himself to relish in the moment.

Later,  _ much  _ later, he’d figure out how to return the sentiment and tell Dean that there was a lot more to Sam than just the businessman front too.

But that was a headache, tears, breaking hearts, and tension filled dramatic episode for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all enjoyed! ... i dont wanna blackmail... but... screw it, im feeling petty. the more comments this gets, the more inclined i'll be to start up (And finish this time) whatever is next for this sooner  
> oh aaand: ii had to switch the names from sam and dean to jensen and jared to help me finish this. technique worked, and i did try to switch them back to the right names, but lmk if i missed anything


End file.
